


(I'm gonna) Give My Secrets Away

by lionofstone



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, Gen, again with the headcanons i won't let go of, also this completely ignores the end credit scene from civil war, buckynat - Freeform, i don't know if in canon timeline this actually makes sense but at this point i really don't care, that just didn't happen. also natasha joined up with t'challa and cap after, these are headcanons of mine that i won't let go of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 17:29:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8022778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionofstone/pseuds/lionofstone
Summary: They traded these words back and forth like a secret.(originally titled 'Goodness')





	(I'm gonna) Give My Secrets Away

the first time she called the winter soldier a _good man_ , she meant a _good shot_ , a _good trainer_ , a _good soldier_. she meant _good_ in the way of the red room, in the way of her twisted moral compass, and she was sure that he understood. but he blinked at her, twice, fast, an unfamiliar action, and she thought that maybe she'd scratched the surface of something more.

neither of them were human in the way of memory and emotion, but for those few seconds-- two blinks, fast-- he looked human. and then the moment passed, and he was back to soldier, weapon, trainer. and then the moment passed, and she was back to soldier, weapon, trainee.

(that night, the memory would be taken from them. each strapped into different chairs with different handlers, the memory would be stolen away. but she was the black widow, and he was the winter soldier, and circumstance meant that they would remember.)

she lay awake into the night, ears alert for sounds of the other girls. she was not the only one awake, she knew, and she'd learned not to trust even those who shared the space she slept. she lay awake into the night, thinking of the winter soldier. 

*

the first time he called her good, he was referring to her dancing. it was a little known fact about the red room that they taught the girls ballet. each of them could _pirouette, jeté, plié_ , with enough grace and skill to join the national ballet. they performed Tchaikovsky and Petipa, they spun until their feet bled and then they danced some more. 

as she was at most things, Natalia was the best at dancing. 

her feet ached, her body screamed in protest, but she danced and danced and danced, and the winter soldier called her good. 

he said, _you're a good dancer_. 

she said, _thank you_.

but it pulled something from her chest, a sort of unfamiliar ache. she hadn't been called good at anything for so long. she thought she remembered saying something similar to him. she thought she remembered him, in a different context.

she extended her hand out to him, and he took it, and they danced. 

(the winter soldier program didn't leave room for ballet, but that didn't matter. maybe something in him had known how to dance once, maybe she lead much more than she intended. they danced, and it was right.) 

she said, _you're good at this_.

he looked at her and said, _thank you_.

*

they didn't take the memory of dancing from them. maybe it was because dancing was a part of the black widow's training. maybe it was because attachments made people unpredictable, but losing those attachments would make them more malleable. 

whatever the reason, the memory of dancing stayed, and the next time they saw each other, they both remembered being called good. 

it was their undoing, in the end. 

*

they traded those words back and forth like a secret. 

it was the one secret they allowed themselves to have from their handlers, the one secret they were able to have. they would drop the word good into conversation at any opportunity, disguised as compliments to the mission objective, to the skill set they'd had programmed in. 

but they looked at each other when they said it, cold eyes meeting cold eyes and melting, and they understood that it meant something more. 

*

sometimes, she remembered and he forgot. sometimes, he remembered and she forgot. it was meant to break them, so their respective programs could build them back up. sometimes, it worked. sometimes, they let them believe that it worked. 

whenever they found each other, something in them remembered, even if their mind couldn't grasp what it was. their bodies remembered. their hearts remembered. 

neither of them were human in the way of memory, but emotion was something they understood. 

*

once, they were far enough away from everyone else that she felt safe in asking, _what's your name?_

and they were far enough away from everyone else that he felt safe in answering, _I think it was James._

*

hydra and the red room cut ties. political difference, they said. Natalia could handle that. 

what she couldn't handle was remembering.

*

he didn't remember, he didn't remember, he didn't remember. it didn't matter how she looked at him, it didn't matter that she said James, James, James, over and over until her throat was raw. 

then again, maybe a part of him did remember. she was certain he'd been sent to kill, and he shot her, he did, clean through her rib cage. but he didn't check for vitals, he just left her for dead in the snow. 

and maybe she would've died there, remembering him while he forgot, killed by the only thing she could ever remember loving--

maybe she would've died there, if not for the whiz of an arrow landing in the snow, black boots landing not a second after... a glimpse of something purple...

and then a voice, gruff and a little angry: _she's been shot. I'm bringing her in_.

*

it was not the first time she'd woken up in an unfamiliar bed. it wasn't even the first time she'd woken up in an unfamiliar bed with someone watching her. it was the first time she'd woken up in an unfamiliar bed with someone watching her who seemed concerned. 

it took her thirty seconds to spot him-- longer than it should have. he was in the windowsill, a few metres up. when she saw him, he jumped down and landed nearly silently.

he said, _you're awake_.

she didn't waste breath asking where she was. she didn't believe he'd tell her. she didn't believe he'd saved her. surely, surely he would be using her in some way. she wished him luck in getting whatever information he was looking for out of her.

she was the black widow, and she did not tell secrets easily. 

she stared at him for a long time, until he seemed to understand the question on the tip of her tongue. 

_you were shot_ , he answered her, _by someone you cared about. I couldn't just leave you, after that. I couldn't kill you either_.

so he had been sent to kill her. so he made a different call. she stares at him some more, and he explained. he was offering her a chance.

she asked, _why?_

he answered, _because I saw good in you._

*

years passed. she learned that the one who saved her was called Clint, or Hawkeye, and privately she referred to him as _the hawk_. he called her Natasha, because she's defaulted, given something fake, something not-true, but the longer he used it, the more these good people used it, the more it felt real. the more she cared.

(one day, she would tell him her real name. by then, it wouldn't matter.) 

she learned of his friend, Kate, _nine years old a spoiled rotten_ , and of his girlfriend, Laura, _the most sensible decision he'd ever made._

she attended their wedding. she'd never seen a wedding before, never considered it as even a possibility. she sees Laura in white and pictures herself in the same.

it's a nice thought, until Laura gets pregnant, and she is reminded of all that she'd lost. everything that they'd made her become. 

*

years passed. a was team assembled out of broken scraps and saved the world and became a family. she still relied on Clint, she still kept his secrets. he was the only one to call her good. 

she'd long since given up on any hope of James. the winter soldier had disappeared again; she hadn't heard rumour of him since he shot her in the snow. 

she kept her hair red, no matter what. it was a dangerous habit for her to have, for a spy to kept something so obvious about their physical appearance. 

but her hair in the red room had always been that colour. maybe a part of her hoped that he would see her, one day, and remember. 

(there was no maybe about it.) 

she kept her hair red. 

*

she met captain america and he saves her life on more than one occasion. he trusts her, he cares for her. she cares for him, as well, but she can't be certain that she'd save his life. 

an artificial intelligence with a name she recognised got her birth year wrong and her heart hadn't stopped pounding since then. if hydra didn't know her true birth year, then what did that mean for her? it was shield who changed all of their records, all of her records. if hydra didn't know her true birth year, then did James? would he remember? 

*

_who the hell is Bucky?_

these are the words that haunted captain america, that haunted her friend Steve. but she'd be haunted by the winter soldier for so long that she could barely breathe when she saw him. 

when she told Steve that he was a ghost, a legend, not a single word had been a lie. he was all that and more to her. 

she didn't know what to say. she didn't know how to say it. so she said nothing. 

he didn't remember her, anyway. 

*

Steve asked Sam to go with him to search for Bucky. she tried to see it as a good thing. she barely survived seeing him again the first time. she tried to convince herself it wouldn't be good for her to go. 

she kept her hair red. 

*

she remembered him calling her good. what she wouldn't give to pass that secret back to him, to remind him that despite it all, he was a good man. 

*

they find him in Russia. her heart stops when they tell her. what had he remembered? did he remember anything? was it nothing more than coincidence? 

she liked T'challa, but she couldn't let him kill him. she knew before they landed in Germany that she would betray her friends. was double-crossing all she was good for? 

_I told you I'd help you find him, not kill him_ , she said to him, and tried to communicate without words everything that she was thinking and feeling. 

_go_ , she said to Steve, and wished for a fleeting second that she could say something more, that she could tell him everything. 

she was betraying her friends. oh, god, she was betraying her friends. 

she looked at the winter soldier-- she looked at James, for a second, and he looked at her, tired eyes meeting tired eyes, and she thought for a second that they both were more awake. 

*

it took time, but T'challa did learn to understand. she appreciates nothing more than she appreciates the phone call he gave her, asking her to come. how he got ahold of a burner phone number was beyond her, but it was a relief to her his voice, and steve's, telling her she has a place with them. 

she went, because she had friends there. 

she went, because James was there. 

he didn't remember, but that didn't matter. he was safe, and she loved him. if he never remembered, at least he was safe. at least she could be there. 

*

they traded those words back and forth like a secret. it was the only secret she had that mattered. they hadn't slipped the word good into conversation in years, and he didn't remember the significance of it, but she knew it. he was good, and he thought she was good. 

she'd take that secret to the grave, if she had to. 

*

he asked her, one day, why she came so quickly when they called. 

she answered, _you're a good man, James._

and he looked at her, and said: _Natalia_. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've ever written for Marvel and it's a little bit messy but, hey, I tried! I've been neck deep in buckynat fics for the past few weeks, and after a while I realised I had an idea kicking around in my head and I had to get it out. I couldn't resist mentioning Kate Bishop, because as far as I'm concerned Matt Fraction's run of the Hawkeye comics in basically MCU canon. Well, okay, with a few adjustments. 
> 
> Also, I'm honestly not sure if the timelines would work out like this? I don't remember if Natasha said when she'd been shot, but we do know that Clint was sent to kill her, but made a different call. I thought it might be interesting if that call was made because he saw something more human in the Black Widow. If the timelines work out, great! And if they don't, call it creative licence. 
> 
> For those who care, I am still working on Seven Hells; it's been rather slow-going, but I'm getting there!


End file.
